Every Second
by Averse
Summary: Every second... He paused, kissing her gently between each phrase. Of every minute...of every hour...of every day...of every week...of every month...of every year I thought about you.


**A/N: So, first off, I have something to say. I spend the time to write these stories, most of them take over an hour of my time. Not that I don't enjoy it, but honestly, if I can spare an hour on this story, the least you can do is leave me a review if you read it. It takes two seconds. Just a 'Good Job' or a 'I liked this' or even ':)' is good. Critisism is alright too. But if you read it, you review it, please. And, I realize Max is way OOC, but he's hard to portray coz I don't really _know_ his character well, 'kay kiddies?**

_"I guess, if you find thatone person who puts up with allyour crap and likesyou as you are and doesn't wanna change you, it's alright."_

_"Yeah, if you find that person..."_

Lorelai smiled at Luke, glad that all of the horror stories he'd been telling her about marrige had been cleared up. He smiled in return, a rare strech of his lips. Her smile widened at the sight, and for a few minutes, they sat on the steps, just smiling, and nodding occasionally. She turned to him, thinking of something to say, but nothing came to mind. Clasping her hands together, she wrung her fingers boredly, rocking back and forth slightly. Finally, he grunted, slapping his thighs and standing up. She followed his lead, without the thigh slapping. Although, if they were talking about _his_ thighs, then...she should remember she loved Max and was engaged. _Engaged, engaged, engaged, _she mentally chanted, suddenly feeling kind of jittery. 

"So, thanks for the _Choo_-pah." Lorelai said after a long, awkward pause, following him and standing next to him underneath. Luke smirked. She really butchered that word. But he couldn't help but love how she had a pause between each syllable, and extended the 'o' in 'choo'. Chuckling very quietly, he put a friendly arm across her shoulders. Now this felt right. He sighed contendedly, tilting his head up slightly, observing his handywork. This felt _really_ right. Almost unnervingly so. Depressingly so. He dropped his head, staring at his shoes. She was engaged. Lorelai Gilmore, the woman he loved more than life itself was engaged. And he hadn't even told him how he felt. 

He hadn't told her how the very sight of her curly black hair made him sigh with contentment; the perfect curves of her body under her clothes made him think things that a middle-aged man shouldn't be thinking. How beautiful she looked in the color blue; how well it brought out her icy eyes, how much he loved those eyes. How he dreamt of her every night, and woke to find nought but apillow beside him, her warm body removed by the ruining of a dream. How he secretly found every little bit she and Rory did hilarious, and had to roll his eyes and leave when they put on their comedic acts so her could hide in the back room and laugh. And he hadn't told her how many times he lost focus in what she was saying, just watching her lips form the words in a way so completely unique to Lorelai, and wondered what they felt like. 

Luke had never told Lorelai how much he loved her. 

Not that he was happier than he had ever been when she smiled at him. That he hadn't thought of Rachel once since she left, but every waking and sleeping moment even while Rachel was in the Hollow he'd dreamt of her. He hadn't told her that her beautiful smile lit up the room; that he couldn't stop staring at her when she walked. How he _watched_ her as she walked; the gentle swaying of her hips, the bouncy vivacity in her stride. Luke couldn't help any of it. He had fallen hard at her feet, and was at her mercy twenty-four-seven. For coffee, advice, just a talk...for things he'd only dreamt of; for _anything_. Sighing lightly, he turned to look at her, surprised that her gaze was also on him. And for a moment, he imagined a scene unfurling; the quixotic type that only took place in movies. 

And before Luke could think over it more, it was happening. He turned his head to the side, leaning towards her hesitantly. She swayed to meet him, and their lips touched gently. Luke felt adoration swell within him, stuffing the bitter guilt down deep, as he placed several quick pecks on her rosy, cupid-bow lips. At first it was slow, hesitant, both just taking the time to savor the moment. Lips touched and parted in a quick, unchoreographed manner, sweet and slow. For a while, Luke kept his eyes open, trained on her face, watching as all strains of guilt fell from her face, and she participated just as much as him. Her eyes were closed dreamily, her lips twisted into a smile. 

The sweet hesitation fled within minutes, their hands getting bored with hanging at their sides. Luke reached his hands up, and placed them on either side of her face, and stopping their pattern of quick pecking and turning it into something deeper. She draped her arms around his neck, leaning into him, pushing her lips onto his harder. Tongues entwined as she allowed him enterence, teeth scraping, mouths never parting. Her fingers played with the curls at the back of his neck, he occupied himself fingering the ends of her shirt. Feeling bolder as she pressed her body to his, he allowed himself to reach his fingers into her shirt, carressing the soft, milky skin of her stomach lovingly. 

He didn't dare go farther. And she didn't let him. Gasping suddenly, she placed her hand over his adventurous one, pulling away, both breathing hard. Shaking her head, a quirky smile on her lips, she readjusted his hand, moving the digits to the side of her breast, inhaling sharply as she felt his touch through the fabric. He smiled, wondering with fond taunting why he had thought she would have an objection to said invasion. She, Lorelai Gilmore. Smiling as he leaned in again, she placed a finger to his lips, still not speaking. His thumb stroked the spot she had so boldly lent him, watching with amusement as she shuddered. 

"Dammit Lorelai, I waited years; don't make me wait another minute." Luke grumbled jokingly, trying to kiss her again, but she rebuffed him, satisfying him for a second by a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth, before her blithe smile fell, and she looked serious. 

"Why?" 

"Why what?" 

"Why now? You just said you waited for years. Why didn't you do something?" She asked calmly, her voice even and determined. He sighed, lowering his hands to rest on her waist, putting his forehead against hers. She frowned slightly, as he moved his fingers, and he allowed a quiet chuckle at he annoyance. 

"_You're _the one who said to be patient." He mocked, smirking. She rolled her eyes, and he sighed at the gesture; even with that ridiculous grimace, she was beautiful. She blew a tress of hair from his face, inquiring with her eyes. "Because, I thought I had time. And it was easier to ignore than to be rejected." 

She remained silent, not sure how to respond. Biting her lip meditively, she shifted her wieght to her right foot, entwining her fingers with his. "But you thought about it?" 

"Every second..." He paused, kissing her gently between eachphrase. "Of every minute...of every hour...of every day...of every week...of every month...of every year I thought about it. I thought about how much I looked forward to your morning coffee run. How your eyes sparkle when you make a joke; how the corners of your eyes crinkle when you smile. I thought about your dimples, and how the corners of your mouth are always upturned. I thought about how much you love Rory, and how strong you are for her sake and in the face of problems. I thought about you when I was with Rachel; Lorelai, I've always thought about you." 

"About my dimples? Hun, you haven't seen my _dimples_." She replied, in usual Lorelai speak, accepting his response with a vibrant smile and a coy remark. Luke chuckled, pulling her in to him swiftly and catching her in a tight embrace. "But, the two of you may become better acquainted if you keep this up." She added in a sprightly fashion, squeezing his backside and leaning in for another kiss. He met her halfway, the hesitant pecks out of both of their minds as they kissed passionately, open-mouthed and shut-eyed. 

"I knew it!" A voice yelled suddenly from behind them, accusingly. Startled by the familiar tone, Lorelai's eyes flew open and she backed up, patting her mussed hair, avoiding looking at her fiance on the porch. She had forgotten completely and totally. Max misinterpreted her wide-eyed response, eyes shifting towards Luke angrilly. He had decided, blindly, that Luke had made a pass, and she had nothing to do with it. The tears on Lorelai's face confirmed it, in his mind. "I knew you liked Lorelai; but she's engaged to _me_ so get your sorry ass out of here. If I ever see you near her again, I sware I'll..." 

"What _are _you talking about? You're being a real jerk; you didn't even let her speak!" Luke responded, backing away, annoyed, as Max shoved him. Lorlai wiped her eyes, turning her face to Max and Luke, hurrying to stand between them. 

"Do not talk to him that way." She stated firmly, her eyes straight ahead. A smug smile curved Max's lips, and Luke turned to her, mouth opened to speak, but all he managed was a strangled whine. It pained him to see her so flustered; brackish residue present on her cheeks, eyes reddish with tears. His heart wrenched. "We can't do this." 

"Damn right, Lorelai, we're engaged. He can't go kissing other peoples fiances." Max interjeected, misinterprating her statements. Lorelai had meant that Max couldn't talk to Luke like that, and as for the latter; she and Max couldn't do this. Shaking her head, new tears falling, she turned to Max, hands in her pockets, eyes averting his gaze. 

"Max, I'm really sorry. I thought I could do this. I thought that if I just moved on, things would be better; but I can't, and I'm sorry. You were right in the beginning; there is something between me and Luke. I can't change anything. Please, don't say anything, just leave." Lorelai managed to choke out, feeling majorly whore-ish. A cloud darkened MAx's features, and he sighed with frustration, turning to walk away, kicking the Choopah pole angrilly. Meanwhile, Luke stood behind her, mouth open with slight shock. 

He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her waist, and she leanedher head on his shoulders. Kissing her mass of black hair, he tightened his grip protectively, leaning down so his mouth was next to her perfect ear. He nipped playfully at her earlobe, feeling her shudder in his grasp. "I feel horrible, Luke." 

"I can try to fix that." He murmured, fumbling with her ear in between his lips. She smiled faintly, reaching her arms up around his neck, back still leaning against his strong chest. "And, if we're alone, I can show you what I thought about, every second...of every minute." He added huskily, kissing her shoulder, base of her neck, top of her neck, chin, cheek, temple, forehead, and back to her neck, where her gently scraped his teeth against her skin, tongue skimming the reddened section. 

"Rory's at Lane's." Lorelai stated, emitting a soft moan as he continued his assault. In response, he shoved her gently towards the door, his mouth never leaving the skin he so craved. They stopped with the door open, leaning against the frame, bodies pressed against each other with an affectionate force. His lips traveled down her neck, lingering for a moment on her collar bone. Lorelai's hand stroked his dark hair, breathing jagged, eyes shut tight. It had never been like this with Max--with anyone. She had never felt like this while things were so innocent; teenagers did this, but yet, she felt she couldn't stand it for long; she needed him closer. Pulling his head up to meet with her lips, she shoved him inside, the pair falling at the base of the steps in a mangled heap of arms and legs, still kissing fiercly. 

"Show me." Lorelai finally breathed, meeting his blue eyes slowly. She licked her lips, eyes darting between his face and her bedroom on the next floor. "Now." She added, pleading for a hasty progression. He smiled in response, standing with her hand in his, leading her up the stairs, never dropping her loving gaze. 

"Every second, of every minute...of every hour...of every day...of every week...of every month...of every year..." He murmured, fingers intwined with hers. 


End file.
